Mistress of Evil

Well, well …

Maleficent is at it again. Turns out she was never just another fairy.


I Found Lucas Again

Last year, about this time, I posted a short video of Lucas, the Spider, thoroughly watching adored it, and promptly forgot all about him.

Yesterday, I was researching some stuff on YouTube for a big project Mrs Widds and I are planning for next year, and I’m sure you know about that dastardly sidebar that leads down all sorts of rabbit holes. Well, there he was looking out at me with those adorable shiny eyes, (all eight of ’em) and I decided to share his latest adventure with you.

Just in case you want to investigate his adventures further, here’s his Youtube channel.

Here we go …. Boop!

Once Upon A Time …

… there were three very, very, little raccoons …

… who, with their mum, firmly herding them, scooted across our back garden, where Mrs Widds and I were having an afternoon cuppa, before the mosquitoes and drizzle drove us inside, yet again.

I’ll be honest, I’m loving these cooler temperatures and wildfire-smoke-free skies, but I’d like to see the sun and some blue sky, more than once a week.

Anyway there we were, peacefully sipping our beverages, coffee for Mrs Widds and tea for me, when Mrs Widds quietly squeaked, she seldom squeaks, quietly or otherwise, so I looked in the direction she was squeaking toward.

The three little brown fluffballs accompanied by Mdme Raccoon completely ignored us as they traversed the scruffy lawn, which was in dire need of mowing, but the deal was when the sun decided to shine for two consecutive days then, and only then, would I haul out our ancient lawnmower and do the deed.

I was so enamoured of this raccoonish close encounter that I simply beamed at them and raised my cuppa in salute to what was obviously one of their first outings into the wide world.

They soon disappeared behind the neighbour’s shed to further their adventures elsewhere, or so I thought.

Mrs Widds squeaked again, and I had presence of mind, this time to dash inside and get my trusty cellphone/camera, while Mrs Widds kept me informed of the little darling’s peregrinations.

It turned out that the day’s adventures were over and the three baby raccoons were on their way to bed in … well, you’ll see.

(these are the best of the shaky and blurry shots I managed to get without having my glasses on)

Mdme Raccoon - "This way children." #1 - "I wanna go this way" #2 - "Ooooh, what's that over there?" #3 - "I think I trod in something disgusting ... and tasty."

Mdme Raccoon – “This way children.”
#1 – “I wanna go this way”
#2 – “Ooooh, what’s that over there?”
#3 – “I think I trod in something disgusting … and tasty.”

Mdme R - "Well, alright, you can stay up for five more minutes." #1 - "I think I heard a ghost. I'll come in now."

Mdme R – “Well, alright, you can stay up for five more minutes.”
#1 – “I think I heard a ghost. I’ll come in now.”

#2 - "Me too." #3 - "Well, I'm not staying out here all by myself, even though I'm not scared or anything." Mdme R - "Follow me then, and no dawdling."

#2 – “Me too.”
#3 – “Well, I’m not staying out here all by myself, even though I’m not scared or anything.”
Mdme R – “Follow me then, and no dawdling.”

#2 - "Do you believe in ghosts?" #3 - "Nah."

#2 – “Do you believe in ghosts?”
#3 – “Nah.”

#2 - I think I'll go in anyway. It's getting a bit chilly."

#2 – I think I’ll go in anyway. It’s getting a bit chilly.”

#3 - "Wuss."

#3 – “Wuss.”

#3 – “Um, well, I guess I’ll go in too.”

All quiet, up on the roof

All quiet, up on the roof

In the grand scheme of things three little babies might not be important, but given the state of the grand scheme of these days, the adventures of three little babies just might be the most important thing ever.

Cue ‘Up On The Roof’ made famous by The Drifters, and of course, written by Carole King

Midsummer Chills and the Pyramid

At the beginning of May we had a week of summer temperatures, and at the beginning of June we had three consecutive days where the sun managed to break through the cloud cover for more than a few fleeting minutes.

These are the ‘interesting’ times we now live in, and which will continue to get more ‘interesting-er’ as the seasons progress.

The seedlings I started in pots and carton-halves in the patio are only now strong enough to go out into the gardens. I will tend them as I can, but their survival is uncertain.

The beans and climbing cardinals, (I have no idea what they actually are but the flowers looked pretty on the seed packet) will be going into a new garden that Mrs Widds and I constructed, in between rainshowers and thunderstorms.

Baby beans ...

Baby beans …

... and baby cardinals

… and baby cardinals

Our little rented house on an island in the middle of a lake is a duplex. Since the new owners took possession four-ish years ago, the other half of has remained vacant except for their infrequent flying visits, so we basically have the yard to ourselves.

A previous tenant had build a firepit with old bricks, but it soon degenerated into a pile of ash and weeds. In order to do some sort of gardening this season I decided to take it in hand.

First there was the removal of bricks and weeds …

… to reveal a decent heap of ash, most of which we removed to the compost heap, then rebuilt the soil with compost and sandy topsoil. Then it was time to assemble the required tools …

An assortment of dried bamboo sticks ...

An assortment of dried bamboo sticks …

Scissors, a ball of old wool, and duct tape - a gardeners best friend

Scissors, a ball of old wool, and duct tape – a gardeners best friend

… and construct this …

I stopped stringing the wool halfway down to plant the seedlings

I stopped stringing the wool halfway down to plant the seedlings

Look at that craftswomanship!!!

Look at that craftswomanship!!!

Here are the babies, all snug and sound in their new home ...

Here are the babies, all snug and sound in their new home …

That white stuff on the ground isn’t snow, (although the high passes to the interior just north-east of us did get a bit of a fall for Summer Solstice) it’s crushed eggshells, to ward off slugs. They don’t appreciate all those sharp edges …. bwhahahahaha …

The sun graced us with her presence yesterday so I took advantage of the light for the final shot.

... and now we wait

… and now we wait

Why Mirrors Lie

Mrs Widds seemed in a pensive mood last night.

As couples who have been together for a while tend to do, we both, for no particular reason, turned to each other at the same time. I, from my computer and she, from her book.

Perhaps something had been triggered by what she had been reading, for she looked at me and asked, probably rhetorically, “Why do mirrors never show us as we see ourselves?”

“Because they lie,” I answered without thinking.

It’s not their fault, of course, they were cursed, a long, long time ago: And this is how it happened …

When they were first invented, by a cronemage who chose the name Skögul after one of the Valkyries of legend, mirrors reflected all aspects of the viewer back to themselves.

First there was the Physical image, but it was a weak, thinly defined, image, because, of course, the physical is only the first stage of one’s Self. Layered on the Physical, was the Mental image, where one could, if one looked closely enough, discern all the thoughts one had ever created. The third layer was the Emotional, thick and full of drama and beauty, it was the layer that created a three dimensional aspect to the other two. Finally came the Spirit layer that bound the other three to it and thereby giving the viewer what was known as a True Reflection.

Skögul made them, freely available to all who asked.

When she felt her life drawing to a close she made a special mirror that enabled her Spirit, at the moment of her Death, to brush lightly across the surface of all the mirrors she’d created, in a kind of a Blessing. Then she was no more.

Eventually one of Skögul’s mirrors crossed paths with a wizard. The sort of wizard who had long white hair and a long white beard, both longer, in his estimation than all the other wizards he knew. In fact the wizards gathered together once a year for a beard & hair measuring competition, as is the way with wizards who are concerned more with the length of their, beards, than being wizards.

This particular wizard looked at his reflection in the Skögul Mirror, and to his horror and disgust, saw the true nature of his Spirit.

He was also bald and cleanshaven, which wouldn’t do at all.

He gathered his dignity around him like a shroud and, ignoring the twitching eye in his reflection, cast a mighty spell that broke the enchantment on every one of the Skögul Mirrors, so they would show him only what he wanted to see.

Skögul, of course, had the last laugh. The wizards curse didn’t quite work out for him. From that moment on, all the mirrors ever made, in all the world, would only ever reflect back the thinnest, meanest, layer of what a person truly was.

Every now and then though, in dusty corners of second-hand stores, or mouse-nibbled boxes in attics and basements, and wrapped in cloth that smelled of mists on lakes, and sunsets on ancient stones, and if one is very lucky, a true Skögul Mirror will appear, and a True Reflection will be shown.

The Perfect Riposte …

… on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

Found this on a ‘fun memes’ thread at Permies.com, an all-things-permaculture-y site.

At Last! Kate Kane is HERE!


…. makes me want to sing like Etta James.